Appreciation Stories

She was far from a virgin when I first met herBut every time is a first time for me.Every kiss,every sigh,every tearis a new beginning.She was far from a virgin when I first met her,now I see myself in her eyes in everything I do.Our hearts,our souls,breathe one life.I was far from a virgin when I first met her,only a schoolboy playing childhood games.Now knowing who I am and what I want.Though no longer virgins, the feel...

Steve came home from a sociology class to a general uproar Friday afternoon. "Have you heard about it?" Justin said as Steve put down his backpack. "What? Did someone run us out of milk again?" Steve joked. "Just read this," Anthony ordered. "Read it off my screen." The email had been sent anonymously, but specifically to the guys that shared the house- Steve, Anthony, Gabe, Justin, and Dieter. Steve read with mounting as...

Only Words II People say they are only words, nothing more, Author, Poet Yet, you capture my heart and transport my mind with those verbs and nouns you spew so freely, your adjectives painting the grandiose or sublime. To love-drenched beaches and torture-dungeons alike I readily go with you without fear, stranger. You lift my spirit one day and drown my soul the next, fill me with hope and force me to shiver in dangerYou...

She isn’t petite and bouncy Like a Bugeye Sprite Or a cheerleader Darting around corners  But bouncing with every bump in the road. And she isn’t long and lean Like an XK 120 Or a marathon runner Eating up curves and distance As if they were made just for her. And she isn’t high maintenance Like a Masaerati Or a starlet wannabe Needing attention even if you don’t drive her. No, she isn’t any of those things. She’s warm an...

I thought to instruct the birds--now, wings bowed and boundI'm sinking in the diminishmentof a skylark’s looney tune Larking, loose-limbed and giddyturning skycarts in the dappled sunwhile I, enchanted, shrinkTo a little pool of bedazzlement--

Young men freely speak their desires, their tenderness, their arousal. Unlike more “mature” men they have not that wariness of the expectations of women, that fear of committing themselves by momentary sentiments. They fearlessly walk out on the ice expect it to hold their weight. They hold out their hands and invite even more “mature” women, who are wary and fearful themselves, to join them in the adventure. Yes, let us...